A Troubled Romance
by Symphonyonmute
Summary: John stared at the tv with his right hand in front of his face. His left hand laid beside him on the couch. After a while the tray was empty and Sherlock moved back on the couch. Sherlock's hand landed right beside John's. John could feel the warmth from Sherlock's skin burning on his. But he didn't move his hand. Instead he moved his hand a bit closer to Sherlock's.
1. Chapter 1

John was standing outside 221b Baker Street. He'd been standing like that for hours now, silently staring up at the flat, not moving, not even blinking. Two years. Two years! He'd thought Sherlock had been dead for two years. John had been crying, screaming and aching for months, not able to function as a human being. He'd been drinking too. A lot. He hadn't shaved or showered for months. Hadn't seen the point? Sherlock was gone and all John could feel was pain. Every Saturday he'd been to Sherlock's grave. Sitting there, drinking, crying and talking. Asking for that one last miracle - please don't be dead. The answer the cold stone had given him was silence, just silence. But that was a long time ago. He'd met Mary. She'd helped him function again. Helped him to feel again. Helped him back to life. He'd moved on. He had accepted that his best friend was gone forever. But yesterday... yesterday when he was supposed to propose to Mary... John couldn't even think about it, it sent shivers down his spine.

Sherlock was not dead. Not dead. He'd been standing in front of him yesterday. Talking to him. And John had been so angry. So so angry. How could he?

John kept on staring at the flat for another half an hour. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled. He shook his head, looked down at his feet - as if he wanted to tell them "it's time to move now". Then he walked quickly across the street and knocked on the door of 221b Baker Street.

Mrs Hudson opened the door. She looked at John with a serious expression on her face.

\- He's upstairs, dear.

John walked in to the hallway still not saying a word, looking blankly in front of him.

\- Are you alright dear? Mrs Hudson asked

\- I'm fine, John answered.

\- Are you sure?

\- Yes.

\- Dreadful business all of this, isn't it? Gone for so long and now he's back. I can't believe it really...

Mrs Hudson talked but John didn't hear a word. He just stood there silent, blank. Suddenly he ran up the stairs, taking every step in a hurry. Mrs. Hudson stopped talking and looked after him. But by this time John had already opened the door to the flat and gone inside. And then John saw him. Sherlock. He was sitting in his chair with his hands in front of his face, like he always put them when he was thinking. Sherlock looked up at John. His face went from thinking to a small smile and then to seriousness in a matter of seconds.

\- John... Sherlock said in a whisper, warmth and worry in his voice.

He stood up and looked at John. John could feel how his body was shaking, and he took a step in to the room. John looked at his feet, not able to look at Sherlock. The air in the room was vibrating with emotions and if someone had walked into the room now they would have backed out, leaving the two of them alone. John tightened his hands into fists, felt his body shaking. Not just because he was still angry at Sherlock but also because he felt feelings inside him that he thought were gone forever. Feelings he never thought he'd be able to feel again. Not with anyone else but Sherlock. Seeing him again. His dark curly hair, his mouth, his pale blue eyes that saw through everything and... damn it! Everything. Just everything about Sherlock made Johns body tremble.

\- Two years, John said in a whisper, he almost exhaled the words.

\- I know. Sherlock answered and took one step closer to John.

\- You were gone...

\- I know, and...

John interrupted Sherlock.

\- I cried for you! Mourned you! Screamed. I fucking sat at your grave, talking to you!

At this time John looked right at Sherlock. Didn't leave his eyes for a second. Sherlock looked back at John, not entirely sure about the situation.

\- I'm sorry John! What more do you want me to say? Sherlock said.

\- I don't know! I don't know! John shouted. Just one word. That's all that was needed. Just a whisper. Just a small clue that you were alive, that you were ok, that you were still here, with me! That's all! One word!

\- There were whispers! There were clues, John. And they were staring right at you. But you're just too ignorant, too ordinary to see them...

Smack! John hit Sherlock right in the face. The nose that was already bruised from yesterday's fight cracked opened again and blood started dripping down onto the floor. Sherlock looked at John. John had frozen. Sherlock took his right hand and put it on his nose, the other hand stretched down for some paper that was lying on the floor. John rushed to Sherlock, helped him with his nose.

\- I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm just...

\- I thought we'd gone through it all yesterday. Why are you still angry? Why did you come here if all you wanted to do was scream at me, hit me, blame me? All I ever did was to make sure you were safe!

Sherlock sat down in his chair. John pulled his chair closer and sat in front of him holding his hand on Sherlock's knee. There was silence between them. Sherlock was holding a hand on his nose, the paper was all red.

\- Let me see, will you? Said John

\- No.

\- Let me help you with your nose, John said.

Sherlock nodded and removed the paper. The nose looked a mess. Bloody and bruised. John went to the kitchen and picked up his case that contained band aid. First he cleaned Sherlock's face with water and soap, gently, slowly. Then he fixed the nose as good as he could with the stuff he had. When he'd finished he looked at Sherlock and then took his hand. Sherlock looked at their hands but didn't move away. Then he looked up at John again.

\- You shaved it, he said.

\- What? Said John.

\- The moustache. It's gone.

\- Yeah. It didn't work for me, he smiled a crooked smile at Sherlock realizing that he was still holding his hand. Sherlock smiled back.

\- Good, he said, I like my doctors clean shaven.

Five days went by and John thought a lot about what happened that night at 221b Baker Street. He knew that he felt something for Sherlock. He'd known it for a long time. And when Sherlock died he knew that a part of him died with him, he buried the feelings with him. And now the feelings were picking at his heart again, demanding to get out. And he knew he just didn't want to live without him. But he was scared of his feelings too, all the things he felt for Sherlock. It was more than friendship, it was deeper, truer. But to admit that he felt more for him, scared John. So he stayed with Mary. Moved on with his life. Going to work. Making dinner. Small talk and kisses with Mary. Just ordinary stuff. But that night, four days after the night at Sherlock's, he and Mary were having a quiet night in, watching a movie and cuddled on the couch. Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. Mary and John looked at each other. Who would come over this late? John stood up and went to answer the door. Outside stood Sherlock with a cardboard box in his arms.

\- Eh, hello, said John, what are you doing here...?

\- An experiment, John! I'm doing an experiment.

Sherlock walked through the opened door, not looking at John and went straight in to the kitchen. The kitchen had a kitchen island in the middle of the room and by the window stood a table. Sherlock started to unload the things from the box on the kitchen island. There were books, three cages with some bees in them, honey, sugar, flowers, three small bowls, toilet paper, a microscope, tweezers and a pack of rubber gloves. He took off his coat and then marched over to John and gave it to him. John took it and put it on a chair by the kitchen door. Sherlock was dressed in his usual black suit and white shirt.

\- Sherlock, what the hell are you doing? John said irritated.

\- I'm working.

\- I can see that. But you're in my kitchen. Why aren't you in your own kitchen?

\- It was messy.

\- Messy?! Oh my God Sherlock! You could just clean you know.

Sherlock looked up from the box.

\- Clean? Clean?! He shook his head. I'm a scientist John, a consulting detective and a high functional sociopath - but I'm not a maid. Get your facts right.

Then he went back to unloading more books, now putting them on the table. Mary had appeared behind John and put her hand on his shoulder. John exhaled loudly. He'd seen this before. There was no stopping Sherlock at this point.

\- What is he doing John? asked Mary.

\- An experiment... John sighed.

\- With bees?

\- It looks like it.

\- In our kitchen?

\- Yeah...

\- For how long?

\- God knows!

They looked at Sherlock. He took one of the cages with the bees and put them under the microscope. Then sat down on a high chair and started to examine them. It was all quiet in the kitchen, all you could hear was the clock ticking and a small buzz from the bees.

\- Why do you need a kitchen for this Sherlock? You could just look at the bees in your living room.

Sherlock looked up with a puzzled grin on his face.

\- My living room... Dear God John. I need to feed them. And tell me, how can I make a proper meal for the bees without a proper kitchen?

\- I don't know...?

\- Exactly John! You just... Can't. Do. It.

There were a silent pause.

\- So you're gonna feed the bees...?

\- Well yes. I'm not gonna starve them. I'm not cruel.

\- Alright then...

John turned to Mary and rolled his eyes. He took her hands and whispered.

\- I am so sorry Mary.

\- No it's fine. It could have been worse actually. I think he's kinda cute, getting all excited.

\- So I'm not cute then, John said with a crooked smile.

\- You know I think so, silly!

She leaned in to kiss John but before their lips met Sherlock spoke up and interrupted the kiss.

\- John.

John sighed.

\- Yes.

\- Some tea would be lovely, thank you.

The evening passed by quietly. John and Mary continued with the movie, cuddled on the sofa. But John felt stiffer knowing that Sherlock was in the other room. Half an hour later Sherlock appeared in the doorway, holding a tray with freshly made toast, cut in small small pieces, and a small jar of marmalade. He looked at John and Mary. Mary moved away from John, both sitting straight up on the sofa. Sherlock walked through the room and squeezed by Mary. When he was between them he sat down and put the tray on the small table in front of him. Then Sherlock looked at Mary on his left side and then over to John on his right side.

\- I've made snacks, Sherlock said in a deep voice.

\- You've made snacks? John asked and looked at the tray with toast.

\- Yes.

\- You know, people don't usually have toast for snacks.

\- They don't?

\- No.

\- But I googled "food to eat in front of a movie". And it said: "Usually small pieces of food you eat in company with others, like potato chips. Sometimes there's dip too" You don't have potato chips. And this is small pieces of food. I have fixed dip too. See!

He picked up the small jar of marmalade and held it under Johns nose. John wrinkled his nose and pulled his head back.

\- Jesus, Sherlock.

Sherlock looked hurt when he put the marmalade back on the tray. Mary leaned forward and put a hand on Sherlock's knee.

\- It looks lovely Sherlock, she said looking straight at John her eyes demanding him "please be nice, he's trying!".

\- Don't lie to me Mary. I'm not cut out for the ordinary, Sherlock said.

\- We know that. But we appreciate you trying. It was very kind of you. She smiled at Sherlock who took a piece of toast and chewed it loudly.

\- And the experiment? John said to change the subject.

\- They weren't hungry.

\- So...

\- Gonna continue tomorrow.

\- So you're gonna stay?

\- Yes. I can sleep on the couch.

\- Okay then.

Mary and John looked at each other but didn't say anything. The movie that had been paused was on again. Sherlock ate the toast and sat awkwardly between Mary and John. Mary sipped her wine from time to time. John stared at the tv with his right hand in front of his face. His left hand laid beside him on the couch. After a while the tray was empty and Sherlock moved back on the couch. Sherlock's hand landed right beside John's. John could feel the warmth from Sherlock's skin burning on his. But he didn't move his hand. Instead he moved his hand a bit closer to Sherlock's. John could see how Sherlock frowned from the corner of his eye. Then he moved his hand closer to John's. Now their hands were actually touching. Sparks flew from Sherlock's skin into John's hand. The spark flew right through his body and then landed in his heart. John lost his breath for a second, hoping that Mary didn't notice anything. Something was bursting inside him and it was impossible to hide. His pulse was speeding up and he looked away, not able to look at Sherlock or the movie. But he didn't move his hand. Sherlock didn't move his hand either. John realized that he didn't want to move his hand. He wanted to feel this. He was confused and mad as hell but suddenly he was free.

\- Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Sherlock gasped.

John quickly drew back his hand looking at Sherlock. Sherlock stood up and walked quickly out into the kitchen. John sat and looked after him, not able to say a word. Mary came closer to him once again. But John felt an aching emptiness in his body. The moment was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later Sherlock burst in to John and Mary's flat, not even knocking. John, who had just come home from work and was trying to relax reading the paper, just saw a long dark coat sweep through into the kitchen and then he heard the door slam. John put the paper down and went into the kitchen to look for Sherlock.

\- Sherlock?

Sherlock didn't answer. It seemed like he was searching for something. His hands were shaking, his hair was a mess and the shirt that was usually so proper had some buttons open.

\- Are you ok? John asked.

Sherlock froze and looked at John.

\- No. I'm not. He said. I'm bored John! And you know what happens when I'm bored.

\- Yes I do.

\- Bored John! Bored! This experiment is failing, we haven't had a case for ages and... and... no cigarettes. I need cigarettes.

\- Try to calm down, John said with a smooth voice.

\- Calm! This is as calm as I can be!

He looked around the kitchen nervously. Starting to threw his stuff down. He threw the box on the floor. It crashed loudly!

\- I need to clean up. Pack all the stuff. Leave this house. Leave. Not coming back.

\- Relax, you haven't been in the way, John lied.

\- It's all falling apart!

Sherlock rushed over to John and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him.

John reacted on impulse, grabbing Sherlock's head with his hands holding him still.

\- Pull it together Sherlock! He said with a deep voice.

Sherlock actually listened to John this time and froze right there and then. He let go of John's shoulders and let his arms rest against his sides. John still held his hands on Sherlock's face and both of them stared at each other, not leaving the others eyes at all. The feeling of Sherlock's skin tingled under his hands, but he didn't move them. The urge to kiss Sherlock right now bubbled under his skin. But he didn't move. Too scared. What would happen if he let go and just kissed him? Just the thought of Sherlock's lips against his own made his body tremble and feelings bubbled inside him.

\- I'm calm now, Sherlock said slowly, are you?

John realized that Sherlock was trying to deduce what he was thinking, and frightened of his own feelings and even more frightened that Sherlock would see them, he let go of Sherlock's face.

\- Yeah, I'm fine. It's all fine. Let's sit down in the living room for a moment shall we?

\- Alright. Sherlock agreed

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch. John looked at Sherlock who looked at him with a puzzled grin on his face. Oh how John wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he know everything now? Had he been an open book, letting his feelings show?

\- Where's Mary tonight, Sherlock asked with his eyes fixed on John.

\- She's working late, John said rubbing his hands nervously against each other.

\- Oh, Sherlock said and looked away.

Sherlock put his hands in front of him like he does when he's thinking. He's eyes looking far in front of him, rubbing his nose slowly against his fingers. John looked at him. God, why do he look so good? The urge to touch his hair bubbled up, just reach out his hand and touch it. He saw that Sherlock's shirt still had some buttons open and naked skin appeared in the gap. John stood up, but didn't know why he did it. Sherlock looked at him. John started to slowly walk through the room, not knowing what he was doing or why he was doing it. It was like his mind was elsewhere and his body was on autopilot. John went to get a drink, he had whiskey and glasses in the living room. He's hands were shaking badly and when he poured some fell on the floor, making the carpet wet. Then he drank it all, bottoms up. He poured another one and did the same again. Feeling Sherlock's eyes on him.

\- I need some air. John said after a while.

John put down the glass and bottle on the table and walked quickly out of the room. Soon he stood in the doorway, breathing slowly. He looked at his shaking hands, then looked up at the starry sky. He couldn't do it anymore. How could he marry Mary, knowing that his feelings for Sherlock were now stronger than ever? And Sherlock? What does he feel? Does he feel anything at all? No one knows what Sherlock really feels. John could hear Sherlock move inside the flat. Soon he appeared behind him.

\- John...? Sherlock said quietly, his voice deep.

\- Oh shut up!

John turned around and faced Sherlock. Not knowing what he was doing he put his palm on Sherlock's neck and then he kissed him. Sherlock's eyes were wide open at first but then he closed them and did not move away. John realized what he had just done and let go, looking at Sherlock with a shocked expression.

\- I'm sorry, I don't know why I just did that...

Sherlock stared at John. His fingers touched his own lips, where Johns lips had been seconds ago. Still not saying anything Sherlock took a step towards John. Standing close to him. Then he reached out and ran his fingers though Johns hair. John took a shivery breath, closed his eyes. Then Sherlock kissed John. A real kiss this time. Not just lips meeting. No, a real kiss. Slowly, lips moving, tongues touching. Fingers in the hair. Playing with the curls. John felt his legs shaking and he had trouble standing up, but somehow he managed to do it. The kiss seemed to go on forever, but at the same time just for a few seconds. Then Sherlock pulled back and the kiss was over. But John's body was revolting, shaking. Sherlock looked even more shocked than John was feeling. He looked at his hands, then over to John as he couldn't believe what had just happened, what he had just done. He stumbled down the stairs.

\- I think I need to leave now, doctor. Sherlock said turning away and started to run away down the street. Leaving John alone with his feelings. What the hell had just happened?


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesday 10.53

"Sherlock. I think we should talk. Call me. JW"

Tuesday 22.16

"No answer? What are you up to? JW"

Wednesday 13.13

"Sherlock. You can't avoid me forever. We need to talk about this. JW"

Wednesday 17.44

"Sherlock?"

Thursday 17.47

"Are you ok? JW"

Friday 23.57

"I haven't heard from you in days. Coming over tomorrow! JW"

Saturday 19.37

"Was over at your place today. You weren't there. Mrs Hudson hasn't seen you since Monday! I'm worried Sherlock. JW"

Saturday 02.17

"I can't handle this silence Sherlock. I need to know what's happening. I need to know you're alright. Where are you? JW"

Saturday 02.24

"You bloody bastard! We kissed! We fucking kissed Sherlock! What was that? Did that mean anything to you? JW"

Saturday 02.32

"I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry. JW"

Saturday 02.33

"But you could just answer! JW"

Saturday 02.43

"I am a mess Sherlock. I don't know anything. I'm lost. This is more than I can handle... JW"

Saturday 02.44

"I don't need you! JW"

Saturday 02.46

"I do need you! Come back! Please... JW"

Saturday 03.22

"Please... Sherlock. Please!"

Saturday 03.25

"Please come back to me. I beg you. I can't do this on my own. Please Sherlock. For me... JW"

Another week passed and John didn't hear from Sherlock. All he could think of was their kiss. How Sherlock's lips had been touching his. How he could feel him. How every cell in his body had been trembling. But not hearing from Sherlock was an agony not known to this world. Mary was concerned for him, he knew that, but she thought he was worried for his best friend. And in a way he was. But now it was more than best friends, everything had changed. No one had heard from him or seen him since the day after the kiss. And only John knew about that. Lestrade had tried to lure him back with some interesting cases, but nothing. Mycroft was looking. Searching. He had seen this before, John knew it. In a way John blamed himself for Sherlock's disappearance. If he hadn't kissed him in the first place, none of this would've happen. Sherlock wouldn't have gone. But, said a small voice in John's head, he kissed you too. He was the one to kiss you that second time, remember. At night he dreamed about Sherlock. Always the same dream. They stood on a dark road, in the middle of nowhere. They were facing each other.

\- Where are you? John asked.

\- I can't tell you, Sherlock answered in the dream.

Silence echoed between them.

\- What do you want John?

\- Do you know the way? John asked

\- The way to whom?

\- I'm lost in you, can you please help me to find my way back home?

But Sherlock didn't answer. Instead Sherlock disappeared, slowly. Fading out. Then he was gone.

It was Sunday and John and Mary were sitting in the kitchen eating dinner. Pork chops and chips. It didn't taste of anything. John didn't want to eat. He was staring silently in front of him. Mary looked at him, with worry in her eyes. She had seen this before, when she'd met John and Sherlock had been dead. They were interrupted by the phone ringing. John rushed up to answer.

\- John.

\- John, its Greg. Mycroft found him.

\- What?

\- He's in really bad shape John.

\- Where is he?

\- In the hospital. An overdose... cocaine.

\- Oh my god. Is he going to be alright?

\- I don't know. You should go see him.

\- I'm on my way!

For a moment John was just staring at the phone.

\- What's happening? Mary asked

\- They've found him, John said, I really got to go!

He hurried away to the hallway, struggled to put on his jacket. Mary followed after him.

\- I'm coming with you, she said.

\- No I need to go Mary.

\- Yes I know. And I'm coming with you.

\- I'm in a hurry Mary! He can die!

\- I know that and I'm coming with you, she nearly shouted at John.

John finally nodded and they both ran out on the street and into the car. John was driving but maybe he shouldn't have. He drove way to fast and was way to worried to function. It took them twenty minutes to get to the hospital and they both rushed in to the reception.

\- How can I help you, sir? The lady behind the desk asked.

\- We're here too see Sherlock Holmes. John said short of breath.

\- I'm gonna check that for you, the lady said, wait a minute.

A minute seemed like forever for John, the seconds ticking slowly.

\- He's in the ICU sir, the lady said, the fourth floor, room 412.

\- Thank you!

John and Mary ran to the elevators and up to floor four. It took a while to find Sherlock's room but eventually they found it. Lestrade stood outside the room and nodded a hello to Mary and John. The first thing John saw when they entered the room was Sherlock lying in the bed with Mycroft sitting in a chair beside the bed. Sherlock was really pale and had a tube with oxygen in his nose and some other tubes on his chest, measuring the heartbeat, he had a white hospital shirt on and looked so small and weak it was heartbreaking.

\- Oh my god Sherlock, John gasped

Mycroft, who had faced Sherlock turned around and saw both John and Mary.

\- John. Mary. He said.

\- Is he gonna be alright, Mary asked.

\- They don't know yet, said Mycroft. They have flushed his stomach and given him all the treatment they can for the moment. It's up to Sherlock now.

John walked up to the bed and looked at his friend. He felt tears coming up in his eyes. He had lost Sherlock once, he just couldn't do it again. Not after what happen between them, he'll always blame himself. He took Sherlock's hand and sniffled.

\- Where did you find him? John asked slowly.

\- Down by the river at Bankside. It looked like he'd been lying there for a while, he was so cold and barely breathing. I hope I wasn't too late...

Mycroft looked at John and saw tears running down his face.

\- Here, take my seat, Mycroft said standing up, offering the chair to John.

\- Thank you, John said

John sat down beside Sherlock's bed, holding his hand, silently crying. Mary came up to him and laid her arms round John's shoulders. She hugged him and kissed him on the head. John smiled slightly at Mary then continued to look at Sherlock.

\- Have you any idea why he did this? Mary asked Mycroft.

\- It could've been anything really, Mycroft said, he's unpredictable my little brother.

When he said this Mycroft was looking at John as he wanted to see Johns reaction to this. Like Mycroft knew more than he said to Mary.

\- But something must've triggered this?

\- Yes Mary, that's for sure. But we can only guess. The only one that knows for sure is Sherlock himself, and right now he's unable to speak for himself.

I know too, John thought, but I can't tell them.

\- Have he done anything like this before?

\- He's been having a drug problem for years. But it has been under control for some time now. Probably at the same time John entered his life. You have helped him a lot John.

\- He's helped me too, John said shortly.

A short silence in the room.

\- It's getting late, Mycroft said, I'm gonna go home and get some rest.

Mycroft walked through the room and up beside John, and gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

\- Look after him will you?

\- Yes I will.

Then Mycroft went out from the room. John could hear Mycroft silently talking to Lestrade outside the room, then their voices faded away and he knew that they had walked away. It was only him and Mary left in the room with Sherlock. And they were sitting in silence for a long while. Mary didn't have a chair so she was sitting on the floor. John looked up at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. Doctors and nurses had been coming and going for the past hours. But they still couldn't give John or Mary any answers. It was still up to Sherlock. John looked over at Mary who was half asleep sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. He let go of Sherlocks hand that he'd been holding the past hours and went over to Mary. Stroke her gently over the cheek.

\- Mary, you should go home. Get some rest, John said.

Mary woke up and looked at John.

\- Are you sure?

\- Yes of course I'm sure. Go home and rest and we'll see each other tomorrow.

\- Alright, she said and stood up, you could come with me you know.

\- No Mary, I can't.

\- You can't do anything now sweetheart.

\- I can be here. Sit at his side. I'm not leaving him.

\- Ok. I'm not gonna argue with you. I'm coming back tomorrow.

She kissed John and went out of the room leaving John alone with Sherlock. The room was dark and the chair was uncomfortable. He took Sherlock's hand in his and held it.

\- Please Sherlock, wake up. I can't live without you. I... I am... damn, it's so hard saying out loud even if I know you can't hear me.

There was a short pause. John took a deep breath.

\- I am in love with you Sherlock. I love you, you moron. You can't disappear from me. I won't let you.

After this he leaned over the bed, feeling tired. And even if the position he was in was uncomfortable, he fell asleep


	4. Chapter 4

It was still dark in the room when John suddenly woke up. He must have been dreaming? He'd thought he'd heard someone whispering his name. He looked up at Sherlock.

\- John...?

John's heart started pounding faster. Sherlock had his eyes half open and had said his name. He was awake.

\- Oh my god Sherlock.

\- John...? Are you really here...?

\- Of course I am here, John said and squeezed Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock looked up and smile a tired smile at John who started to cry. Loudly. Sobbing and leaning against the side of the bed. This woke Sherlock up even more. With his free hand Sherlock slowly stroke Johns hair.

\- My dear John, Sherlock said.

\- I have been so worried about you, John sobbed

\- I... I am so sorry.

John could hear that Sherlock had trouble talking.

\- It's alright, it's all gonna be alright, John said.

\- Of course John...

\- Do you want some water?

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes. John went to get some water and helped Sherlock to drink it, holding his hand steady behind Sherlock's head. Sherlock took some deep sips. At that moment a nurse entered the room. John backed away while she examined Sherlock. She said that the worst was over and that Sherlock now needed some rest. Then she asked John if he wanted to go home and rest too, but John denied the offer and stayed with Sherlock. The nurse nodded and walked out. Leaving the two alone again

\- Why... why did you do this? John asked.

\- Oh John...

\- Was it my fault? It was, wasn't it? John said

\- No John, it wasn't your fault.

\- I shouldn't have kissed you! I don't know why I did that...

\- Oh, you do know why you did that John.

At this point Sherlock was looking right at John. His eyes peering through Johns.

\- We both know why you did it. Sherlock said. And can you tell me what happened after...?

\- You... you kissed me.

\- Yes. I kissed you.

Sherlock was still not leaving Johns eyes.

\- You're a real good kisser John Watson, Sherlock smiled a crooked smile.

John was blushing and looked down, frowning. When he looked up he was all serious again.

\- But why this Sherlock? Why drugs? And no more lies Sherlock! I'm trough with the lies.

Sherlock looked away and faced the wall, not able to look at John.

\- You can only be safe this way. With me not acting human. Not acting on feelings.

\- But I don't want to be safe Sherlock.

\- That's the only thing I want for you, John Watson. For you to be safe.

\- The only thing I want is you Sherlock.

Sherlock turned his head, facing John once more.

\- Do you really think this would work? You and me?

\- Yes.

\- I'm not cut out for the ordinary.

\- Neither am I.

Sherlock stroke his hand over John's teary cheek. When John felt Sherlock's hand on his skin he started to cry once more. He was a surprised that he still had tears left, he'd been crying so much.

\- Oh John. Let's dream for a while, shall we?

\- What do you mean?

\- Let's pretend that stories like ours have happy endings.

\- Sherlock, I... I am...

\- Shhhh, don't say anything. Just come up here to me. You must be exhausted and that chair must be uncomfortable.

\- Come up?

\- Yes, come up in the bloody bed John.

Sherlock moved aside, leaving space beside him for John. John didn't hesitate and crawled up in the bed, his body feeling so tired. He laid down beside Sherlock, his head rested on his shoulder. He could smell Sherlock's skin and he buried his face in his dark curls. This felt so good. He took a deep breath, wanting to breathe every scent of Sherlock in. Sherlock gently kissed John on the forehead and John felt a tear hitting his face.

\- Are you alright? John asked

\- We can't stay like this forever...

\- Quiet please, said John, he sat up leaning on his right arm.

\- Live in the moment Sherlock. John continued

Then he leaned in and kissed Sherlock softly on the mouth. Sherlock stopped crying and answered the kiss.

\- Let's rest now. John said.

Sherlock nodded, looking very tired. John put his head on Sherlock's shoulder and his arm around his waist and Sherlock held an arm around him too. Lying like this, they both fell asleep.

The next morning Mary went to the hospital early. She hadn't slept much and felt like she needed to go back to be there for John. And Sherlock, but mostly for John. She stopped at the hospital cafe on the first floor and bought some coffee to go for both her and John. Then she went up to floor four. Outside Sherlock's room she met a nurse just coming out of the room.

\- Are you here for Mr. Holmes? the nurse asked Mary.

\- Yes. Is he awake?

\- No they're still sleeping.

\- Oh, I see.

\- I was just in there but didn't want to disturb them. I'm coming back later. Are you the sister?

\- The sister? No Sherlock hasn't got any sisters. I'm John's fiancé.

\- The fiancé? Oh my...

The nurse looked concerned. Mary felt puzzled. Why was the nurse looking at her like that?

\- Maybe we should give them some more time? To wake up? The nurse said.

\- What's going on?

\- Oh, nothing Miss.

\- In that case I'm going in to John now thank you!

Mary opened the door and went inside the room. At first she couldn't see anything because the room was darker than the corridor. But when her eyes had adjusted to the room so she could see, she froze. She blinked once. Looked at the bed, not sure if she could believe her eyes. Then she blinked twice and looked again, but the image was still there. John was lying in the bed snuggled up to Sherlock. He had his face buried in his curly hair, resting his head on Sherlock's arm and an arm around his waist. Sherlock held an arm around John and rested his head against John's hair. They looked really peaceful but Mary felt a shock growing inside her. She dropped the coffee on the floor with a loud splash and at the same time Mycroft appeared behind her. Mycroft smiled a concerned smile when he saw the scene that Mary had witnessed. He stopped and watched them lying in the bed. And if Sherlock had been wide awake he would've notice that Mycroft deduced the situation. When the coffee splashed on the floor both Sherlock and John woke up. It took them a few seconds to realize what was going on.

At first John didn't know where he was or what had happened but when it came back to him and he saw Mary's face he felt his body getting cold. He sat up and almost pushed Sherlock out of bed. Sherlock moaned.

\- Mary! John shouted and rushed out of the bed and up to her.

Mary just stared at him not able to say a word. Mycroft walked over to the bed and stood beside Sherlock. He helped Sherlock back into place in the bed. Then he just stood in silence, leaning on his cane. You could see in his eyes, even if he tried to hide it, that he was worried what this scene would do to his brother.

\- I know what this looks like. It's nothing Mary. John tried and stumbled on the words.

\- So what is it then? Mary said in a whisper.

\- I can, I can explain.

\- Explain what? You were in bed with Sherlock for god's sake. What is there to explain?

\- I know Mary, but he's my best friend, and... and...

\- Don't even bother John! I know! I think I've always known. But when he was supposed to be dead it was all fine, but when he came back you became different again.

\- Mary...

\- Stop it! You fucking shaved for his sake!

At this John didn't answer. He just stared at Mary, unable to say anything else. How could he explain this? Did he want to explain, or come up with a lie? Somewhere inside he knew that he didn't want to continue lying to her, lying to himself, not when all these things had happened, all these things were said. Mary just looked at him with tears in her eyes. And that made John hurt. He never meant to hurt Mary. He never wanted her to walk in and see this. He wanted to handle this in his way, another way. Sit down and talk quietly. But that chance was gone now. He couldn't undo this moment even if he wanted to.

\- Mary, I'm sorry, was all John was able to say as he tried to take her hand.

\- It's too late John, Mary said and drew back her hand.

She looked at him with sadness and heartbreak in her eyes. Then she walked out. John stood still for a moment and then he ran after her.

\- Mary, Mary, let me explain! Mary! Stop! Let's talk about this, he shouted after her but she didn't stay to listen.

In the room Mycroft turned his head to Sherlock who was lying in the bed, stone faced, not showing any traces of reacting to the scene they had both just witnessed.

\- I warned you about getting involved brother dear. Now look what has happened.

Sherlock did not answer. He looked away from Mycroft, silently staring at the wall.


	5. Chapter 5

John ran out of the hospital and stopped to catch his breath. He looked for Mary but she had vanished. He shook his head and tried to figure out what he should do. How did he end up here? It was all a total mess now. He'd hurt Mary by being with Sherlock. And he suspected that he'd hurt Sherlock by running after Mary. In a matter of minutes he'd hurt two of the people he loved most in the world. Because, yes, he still loved Mary, just not as strongly as he loved Sherlock. But maybe Sherlock was ok now he'd got Mycroft, John thought, I need to fix this with Mary. So he decided to catch a cab and go home to their house because sooner or later that's where she'd need to go. He waved to a cab standing in the parking lot and jumped in, told the driver the address and then they left the hospital. On his way home John was full of regrets. He felt bad at leaving Sherlock without saying anything. What would he think now? What if he thought that he'd chosen Mary instead of him? No, damn no. Why is life so complicated? This was such a mess and John knew that he was the only one that could make it right. Both with Mary and with Sherlock. He took out his phone and texted him, knowing that Sherlock always preferred text to an actual call.

08.37

"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye. Must find Mary. It's important. Are we ok? JW"

08.43

"It's all fine. SH"

Somehow Sherlock's answer made John feel sick. Those were the words that John always said when nothing was fine at all. Fine? No. Nothing was fine.

When John got back to the house he stood outside for a while, looking at it. It looked so different now than a year ago when he and Mary had bought it. It looked like a shell of something that had never been real. Something that he'd wanted to be real between him and Mary but had just been an illusion. The house was nice, but it wasn't his home. Home is where the heart is, and John's heart was still beating for 221b Baker Street. However dark and dusty, crowded and messy it was, it was still where his heart was. He looked over to the stairs and remembered that night when he had kissed Sherlock, right there on the stair. He could almost see it before his eyes. How he had turned and faced Sherlock and how he had kissed him right on the mouth. He was a bit surprised that he had done it. It was still a bit of a shock to him and all the butterflies that had tumbled around in his body woke up and made him shiver even though it wasn't chilly outside. Sherlock had kissed him back and it had been wonderful. John realized in that moment that his fingers were touching his lips, like they wanted to remember the touch of Sherlock's lips against his. The kisses and cuddles from yesterday still lingered in him. Sherlock smelled good too. John took a deep breath pretending he was breathing in Sherlock's scent. John wanted to keep that scent inside a bottle and keep it with him forever. Then he remembered the first time he'd met Sherlock. How blown away he'd been by him. Not just by his looks, because that had been the first thing that he'd noticed, no by his intellect and how he deduced him. And Sherlock's reaction when John had been impressed by it. He didn't expect that. Maybe he'd fallen in love with him in that moment. But it wasn't until later that John had realized his real feelings for him. John smiled a little at the memory and started to walk up to the house. He unlocked the door and walked in. It was empty. No Mary. He hadn't really expected her to be there. But what should he do now? He walked in to the kitchen and saw the box with Sherlock's things lying inside it. They had released the bees when Sherlock had disappeared. He gently stroked the books in the box. Sherlock's books, and therefore special to John. A small piece of paper with Sherlock's handwriting on it was sticking out from the book. John picked it up and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. Keeping a small bit of Sherlock close to his heart. Then he went upstairs and found a bag and started to pack. He knew that it was he who would move out. Mary didn't have anyone that she knew here in London and her parents were dead. So it had to be John that moved out. And honestly, he didn't want to stay here. He wanted to go back to 221b Baker Street. Back to the life he had before Sherlock died.

Dead. John stopped and looked up from his bag. Sherlock had been gone for two years. With all that had happened in the last few days he'd forgotten about that. And John couldn't decide how he felt about it anymore. Mostly he was relieved to have Sherlock back. To be able to feel again. Two years in the shadows was more than he could bare. And now that Sherlock was back, he was going to do everything he could to be with Sherlock. To feel whole again.

It had gone dark and started to rain when Mary finally came home. At that time John had already packed his stuff in the bag, mostly clothes, and now the bag and the box with Sherlocks things stood in the hallway. John sat in the kitchen waiting for Mary when she opened the door and came in. John looked up at Mary. Mary looked at John.

\- Hi, John whispered.

The air vibrated with emotions and unspoken anger.

\- Hi, Mary answered, you've packed.

\- Yeah, I thought it was for the best.

John stood up and walked slowly towards Mary.

\- I am truly sorry Mary. I want you to know that.

Mary just looked at him not saying anything.

\- This is hard for me too, John continued. It's been a shock just to have him back. And I do love you, Mary, it's just...

\- That I'm not Sherlock... Mary whispered, looking down.

\- No... I mean yes... I mean I don't know and..., John stumbled on the words.

\- See, you don't even deny it.

\- I mean, I wasn't sure about anything and it wasn't until we kissed that...

\- Stop! Wait?! What!? You kissed?!

\- Oh I mean... John sighed. You obviously didn't know that.

\- No I did not know that John! You kissed Sherlock?!

\- I'm sorry, I...

\- Out! I want you out of the house right now! NOW!

She took the bag and opened the door and threw it out. The bag opened when it landed and lots of clothes spread over the driveway. The rain soaked the clothes almost at once. John stood on the stairway and looked at the bag, then turned around to face Mary.

\- Mary, please... I'm sorry...

\- It's too late John. I can't right now.

She looked at John with all hurt and sadness in her eyes.

\- I really didn't want it to end this way, he said.

\- Me neither, she said.

And then she closed the door, leaving John in the rain.


	6. Chapter 6

John arrived to 221b Baker Street an hour later. At first he walked around the empty apartment looking around. It looked the same, just empty. He stayed a bit longer in Sherlock's room. Looking at the empty bed. Then he went up to his old room. There he started to hang up the clothes to dry. Then he sat down on his bed. It all looked the same as it had done two years ago when he'd lived there. He picked up the phone to see if Sherlock had texted him. But he hadn't. John felt so bad for leaving him at the hospital. He's heart ached for Sherlock. He felt so alone and so lost. He tried to call him on the phone but no one did answer. He wanted to explain everything, but not in texts. He sat there and stared at the phone when it suddenly rang.

\- Sherlock...! John gasped when he answered.

\- No, not this time John, Mycroft said.

\- Oh, hello Mycroft.

\- Hello John. I'm calling to tell you that I'm leaving Sherlock now. I've been there all day.

\- How is he?

\- Physically he's fine John, mentally is another story.

\- Oh...

\- What happened between you John? He's not talking to me. And he's refusing help with his drug problem.

\- But he's gonna be ok?

\- As I said, he's gonna be fine physically, but mentally John. I really don't know. But the doctors are sending him home tomorrow afternoon.

\- Oh that's good, John said. I'm already here at Baker Street.

\- Oh, really, so Mary kicked you out then?

\- Yes she did...

\- I'm not surprised, I saw what she saw. And it looked suspicious John.

\- I know, but it was nothing, John lied not wanting to tell all truth to Mycroft.

\- Don't lie to me John, you know I know.

\- Yes, of course you know.

\- See you tomorrow John.

\- Wait, but if you knew all the time why did you ask me what happened?

\- I wanted you to say it out loud, you fool.

\- Oh, okay then...

\- Later John!

\- Tomorrow, Mycroft.

The next day John felt nervous. He didn't know what to do, so he ended up walking around the flat, picking up stuff just to put it down in the same place again. Pacing around without a goal. Preparing a cup of tea, just to forget to drink it. Mrs Hudson had made him something to eat, but he'd forgotten about that too and now it was cold and not tasty. Finally he ended up in his old chair silently waiting for Sherlock to come home. He was sat there deep in thought when he heard the door open downstairs. John stopped breathing and looked up, all awake. Heavy footsteps, two pairs, walking up the stairs. Mycroft was the first to walk in to the room. John stood up. They nodded a silent hello to each other. Then Sherlock appeared in the doorway. Tall, dark and handsome. He looked tired, dark circles around his eyes. And he looked thin, which worried John. He was dressed in the white t-shirt from the hospital, pyjama pants and his coat. When Sherlock saw John, his eyes darkened but he didn't look away. He kept his eyes fixed on Johns. Mycroft saw what was going on and rolled his eyes.

\- Hi... was all John was able to say. His mouth felt parched.

Sherlock looked at him a bit longer, same look in his eyes.

\- I should go and change. Sherlock said. Excuse me.

Then he hurried in to his room and closed the door. John stared after him, then he sighed and sat down again. Mycroft appeared beside him.

\- Give it some time, John.

John nodded.

\- Are you sure about what you want? Mycroft continued.

\- Yes I am, John sighed, I really am.

\- That's good. Mycroft said, warmth in his voice. I'm gonna leave you two alone now. I bet you have a lot to talk about. Take care of him for me, alright?

\- Yes, I'm gonna try.

\- And the place is clean?

\- Clean?

\- Yes, no drugs?

\- Yeah, it's clean. Mrs Hudson had already checked everything before I arrived.

\- Good.

\- Yes.

\- Good luck John.

\- Thank you.

Mycroft started to walk out of the apartment, but he turned around and faced John one last time.

\- You are the best thing in his life, make him see it.

Then Mycroft walked away. John heard the shower starting and knew that Sherlock was inside. John felt the urge to go in and join him and he tried to think of anything other than Sherlock naked and wet, but he really couldn't. A moment later Sherlock appeared in the kitchen. His hair wet and messy, just wearing an unbuttoned bathrobe and boxers. John just stared. Did he do this just to torment him? Sherlock started to look around the kitchen. He put the kettle on for tea and stumbled around looking for something to eat. John stood up and watched him.

\- No clothes, really? John said

\- I have a bathrobe, Sherlock said not paying attention to John, it's more than I had when I visited Buckingham Palace.

\- Yeah, that's true.

Sherlock had made himself a sandwich and started to eat it, still walking around the kitchen.

\- Do you want tea John? He said with his mouth full.

\- No thank you.

\- Oh, ok. More for me!

He poured a cup for himself. He started drinking it while still pacing nervously around in the kitchen.

\- Are you ok? John asked.

\- Me? Yeah, I'm fine, Sherlock said.

Sherlock's body was shaking and he walked around nervously.

\- Are you gonna live here again?

\- If it's ok with you, John said.

\- Yes, yes it's fine. It's all fine. I'm fine, Sherlock said sarcastically

Sherlock drew his fingers through his hair, up and away from his face. His face was in darkness, his eyes were shifting around and didn't look at John.

\- Can we sit down for a while? John asked quietly.

\- I don't wanna sit.

\- Please Sherlock...

\- NO!

Sherlock shouted at John. John looked at Sherlock, he was hurt.

\- I just want to explain myself, John started.

\- No! I don't wanna sit. I don't wanna hear your explanation. I already know what you're gonna say and I don't want to hear it!

Sherlock looked right at John, his eyes were dark and angry and that made John angry too.

\- Really?! You know what I'm gonna say. Sherlock is so smart he knows everything with just a look.

John shouted at Sherlock. Sherlock did not answer.

\- So tell me, what was I gonna say!

\- No.

\- Tell me!

\- No!

They stared at each other across the room, challenging each other with looks only.

\- So you knew how I was gonna tell you that I fucking love you you fucking idiot! John shouted. I'm in love with you! In. Love. With. You - you stupid moron!

At this John stopped shouting and then he whispered with shivers in his voice.

\- I love you Sherlock...

John and Sherlock's eyes bore into each other's. John looked down, put both his hands over his face and sat down in Sherlock's chair. The anger fell away. He felt tears in his eyes, running down his face, but he didn't want to show them to Sherlock. Sherlock did not move for a long time. Then he hurried in to his room and closed the door.


	7. Chapter 7

The days went by and Sherlock avoided John as much as possible. He hadn't said a word to John since that night when they shouted at each other and John had told him that he loved him. It was painful being around Sherlock with all these unspoken words between them. And John couldn't do it anymore. He wasn't home a lot, he spend his days walking around in London. He just came home at nights to eat and sleep. Eight nights after that dreadful night, John woke up from a nightmare. He was sweating and breathing heavily. He couldn't remember the dream but it wasn't a great one. He sat up and reached for his glass beside the bed, he needed a drink of water. The glass was empty. John rolled his eyes, got up from the bed and went down to the kitchen to have a drink of water. The kitchen was dark and John just lit the lamp over the sink. He poured a glass of water and drank it in deep gulps. When he wasn't thirsty anymore he felt that he wasn't alone in the room. He turned around slowly to face Sherlock standing in the doorway.

\- Jesus Sherlock, John gasped.

Sherlock was standing there in just his pyjama pants and no shirt. He looked right at John. John felt shivers down his spine. There was something new in his eyes. Sherlock walked slowly up to John until there were only inches between them. John couldn't move and felt his heart beating like crazy in his chest. Sherlock stroked John's cheek with his fingertips, slowly and gently. John closed his eyes and leaned his head against Sherlock's hand, wanting to feel more. Then Sherlock leaned in and started to kiss John. Gently at first, he wanted to take all of John in, tasting every inch of his mouth. John's knees felt week, his breathing was shaky. He wanted to taste all of Sherlock too, his tongue touching Sherlock's lips, moving, tasting, feeling. Sherlock pushed John back so that John stood against the sink. Sherlock pressed his body against John's. Then the kissed changed and became more hungry and eager. Sherlock lifted John up on the sink and pressed himself between John's legs, still kissing him. John answered the kiss just as hungry as Sherlock. He put his hands in his hair, played around with the curls. Sherlock's hands ran against John's back, searching under his shirt. When Sherlock's hands touched John's naked skin he moaned. Every touch more eager than the last. Sherlock pulled John's shirt off and now they both had their naked chests pressed against the others. John could feel Sherlock's heart beating fast. His skin was soft and warm and lovely. All John could feel was Sherlock. He was Sherlock, Sherlock was him. All lust and feelings. How long had he longed for this? Sherlock stopped kissing him on the mouth and started to kiss him along the neck, small teasing kisses that tickled all of his body.

\- Sh... Sh... Sherlock, he stammered breathing heavily

John pulled him closer, feeling every inch of his body. Oh, he wanted him. He had always wanted him and he always would. John's hands searched for new areas to explore, grabbing Sherlock's rear. Sherlock moaned in his ear and the sound alone sent chills through every inch of John's body. Sherlock's nails scratched John's back and John mimicked the same movement on Sherlock's back. All the hairs on Sherlock's arms stood up and sent chills all over. Sherlock stopped kissing his neck and for a second they both looked deep into each other's eyes. Both breathing heavily. Then John searched for his mouth again, wanting to feel more. Sherlock answered with the same lust as John. Sherlock dragged him down from the sink and pulled him close, starting to walk backwards towards the bedroom. John followed like a puppy on a leash. Right outside the door Sherlock stopped and started to pull on John's pants, wanting them off. Sherlock was impatient and so was John, who also started to pull down Sherlock's pants. And for a moment the kissing stopped. This was it, the first time they saw each other naked. Sherlock looked thoroughly up and down at John's body, frowning, liking what he saw. John looked at Sherlock and smiled a shy smile. Sherlock came closer, started to kiss John again, took him by the hand, opened the door and led John inside. John followed and closed the door behind them. Inside the bedroom they both stopped and just looked at each other. The room was dark and only the streetlights made some light in the room, enough to make them see each other clearly. John looked at Sherlocks body, how perfect can one get? All the lines, the shadows and muscles played perfectly under the pale skin. Sherlock stroke his hand against Johns chest. And this was the only movement that was needed for them to start again. The kissing started right where it stopped, with a hunger wild as the sea. John stroke his hands all over Sherlocks body and then he grabbed him by the hand and started to move it. Sherlock moaned loudly into Johns mouth and that sound made John wild with lust. Sherlocks hands moved down and grabbed John too, miming Johns movements. This made John crazy, it was almost too much. They both let go for a second, not wanting to come just yet. They both were panting and looked deeply into the others eyes. Sherlock pushed John down on the bed and leaned in over him. When Sherlock was over him he held both Johns arms over his head with one hand, not letting him go. Then he started to kiss him again and at the same time he pressed himself inside him. Both Sherlock and John moaned loudly inside their mouths. With Sherlocks free hand he grabbed John and starting to move it in the same pace as he moved inside him. Now there was only movement and feelings left. The world around them didn't exists. Only feelings and heartbeats. Their orgasms grew and they came loudly, never wanting to let go of this moment.

The next day John woke up when the sun hit his face. At first he didn't know where he was or what had happen but then it all came back to him. He was lying in Sherlocks bed with Sherlock close beside him, cuddled up on his shoulder. He was still sleeping, looking peaceful. And it warmed Johns heart to feel him this close to him, relaxing. This is how it was supposed to be. Them against the world. John felt how his heart finally was whole. This is where he belongs. He stroke Sherlock gently through his hair.

\- I love you John, Sherlock mumbled half asleep

\- John froze and felt how his heart stopped for a brief moment. What did he just say?

\- What...? John whispered with an unsteady voice.

\- Sherlock didn't answer at first. He was lying still. And with a deep sleepy voice he said

\- You're in my bed. Why are you in my bed?

\- I am clearly in your bed, John whispered and cleared his thoroat, but what did you just say, before that?

\- Sherlock was quiet, and the silence spread in the room. He sat up and turned away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

\- What did you think I said? Sherlock asked.

\- No, not now Sherlock. I want to hear this from you.

Sherlock still had his head turned away from John. It took a long while before he said anything at all, and John let him take his time. He didn't want to scare him away. But every nerve in Johns body was trembling to hear it. And after what seemed like an eternity Sherlock cleared his throat and without looking at John Sherlock whispered

\- I... I love you John.

John took at deep breath and felt the butterflies in his stomach twirling around and he really wanted to scream of pure happiness. But he knew that would scare the fragile Sherlock away, so he stayed calm. He sat up too and put a hand on Sherlocks back, his naked skin under his palm.

\- Oh Sherlock, John said, I love you too.

\- You say that, Sherlock said still not facing John, but your actions show the opposite.

Sherlock sat on the bed with his legs curled up and holding his arms around them, as he tried to protect himself from something bad. John sat behind him and could only see his back. At first John wanted to protest loudly, how could he think that after sleeping with him? But knowing Sherlock he knew that it would push him away even further and now he's here by a small thread. And he knew that Sherlock didn't mean right now, it was his actions in the past. With his girlfriends while they lived together and then Mary. Back then he thought that it wasn't ok to have feelings for Sherlock, he wasn't sure if Sherlock was able to feel anything for anyone. John decided to take it easy not to scare him away.

-I know that this has been a mess Sherlock. And I'm so sorry if I have hurt you in any way possible.

Sherlock was silent.

\- You thought I chose Mary when I ran after her didn't you...?

At first Sherlock didn't say anything, John leaned forward trying to comfort him by stroking his back. Sherlock didn't move away and then John saw a small nod, so sudden you merely noticed it.

\- I am so sorry for that Sherlock. I really didn't mean for you to feel that way. I was taken by surprise, just like you, and I just acted spontaneous. Wanted to end things with Mary before I could be with you. I really didn't think she would come to the hospital that early. And I wanted to talk with her peacefully. But it all became so messy and I ended up hurting her, and you! And I am so sorry Sherlock.

Sherlock turned around slowly, soon facing John. But still he didn't say anything. He looked down at Johns hands and then on his own.

\- This is really hard for me John, I have never before in my life been able to feel anything. I haven't let myself. Feelings, I can't act on feelings. But with you...

\- It's ok. I know. You don't have to explain.

\- I want to John, cause I can't function without you. Sometimes I think that I fixed you, helping you with your leg and finding a place to stay. But it was always you John, you fixed me and you have always kept me right.

John grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Sherlock frowned slowly.

\- Its been hard for me too, John said. The two years you were gone was the worst in my life and I had to realize that I loved you more than as a friends too late. It was a nightmare. Everything was black and in darkness. And then you were right in front of me and it all came back to me. It was a shock Sherlock. And to process the fact that you were back took time. And all the feelings I pushed away came back, stronger and truer than ever before. I knew that I had been living a lie, that I wasn't living for real - I was only surviving without you. And in the hospital when I thought I've lost you a second time. The darkness inside grew and if you hadn't woke up it would have consumed me and I wouldn't have survived it. So don't you dare disappear from me again.

Sherlock was stroking the back of Johns hand. They looked at each other. John frowned and said

\- And don't you dare doubt it when I say that I love you. Cause I do love you. More than I can explain. More than I ever thought was possible.

And finally Sherlock smiled.

\- Obviously you do. My dear Watson.

\- Am I really yours Sherlock?

At this Sherlock looked at him smiling slightly and with a new spark in his eyes.

\- I'm yours if you want me John.

\- I do want you Sherlock. Oh, god yes, I do want you.


	8. Chapter 8

**One Year Later**

It was New Year's Eve and Sherlock was home at 221b Baker Street. He was composing a new song, something he hadn't done for ages. Soon John would be home and they would go and celebrate New Years with Mycroft. Not that Sherlock really wanted to, but John had convinced him that family was important. Sherlock sighed and smile slightly. John Watson. What have you done with me? He had been with John for little over a year now and it had changed so much and still it all was the same. They still worked with cases. They still lived at Baker Street and the flat still looked the same. The only difference is that now shared a bed. Mycroft was still in his way and nagging on his patience and his parents had been delighted to welcome John in to the family. At first he and John had been taking it slow and still after a year they didn't hold hands or kiss in public. They had stayed the same, but at the same time all had changed. He frowned. Never in his life he'd been able to think anyone would be able to love him, just the way he is. But John Watson did. Sherlock got interrupted in his thoughts with his phone buzzing. He put down his violin and bow down and checked his phone. There was one new message from a blocked number. He opened it:

16.17

"Holmes and Watson is sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

Sherlock read it again and frowned. Then his phone buzzed again.

16.19

"What is Holmes without his Watson?"

16.20

"Is Watson home yet? Isn't he late?"

This made Sherlock feel uncomfortable.

16.23

"You better check your inbox."

Sherlock rushed over to his computer and opened his email. Yes. There was a new mail, from an unknown address. He hurried to opened it. There was a video link. Sherlock opened it and saw a damp room. The room was lit up by candles only and it looked like there was a stage, build with wood. On the stage sat John tied up on a chair with a bag over his head. Sherlocks body went numb. What have happened to his John? Then he felt an anger running through him. I am gonna kill the one that ever hurt John Watson, Sherlock thought. He knew that he needed to save him, but his head was spinning and he couldn't focus. All he could see was the image on the screen with John tied to a chair. He was still moving, trying to escape the ropes. The image suddenly disappeared and then Sherlocks phone buzzed again.

16.34

"Will Holmes start the new year without his Watson? Only time will tell."

The phone buzzed again and on the screen there was now three clocks, Big Ben, the clock of St Paul's Cathedral and then a picture of Greenwich with a clock in the corner. All the clocks was ticking but in a different pace. Sherlock stared at the screen, trying to get this picture right. And then the phone buzzed again.

16.37

"Tick, tock - tick, tock."

Sherlocks head was spinning and he looked at the screen with the clocks again. There has to be something wrong with this picture, something he's missing. He looked at the times. Big Ben was set on Hong Kong hours, ticking second by second. Both Greenwich and St. Paul's behaved different. Greenwich seemed to rush faster than the other clocks, the minutes running too fast. St Paul's hacked back and forth, skipping between 16.02, 16.17, 16.32 and 16.47, and then it started over. Sherlock quickly searched on the web for events concerning Hong Kong in London this evening, there was 42 Hong Kong themed parties, 376 restaurants, which 78 was called Hong Kong, 38 themed stores and lots and lots more. Sherlock rushed through all the information, and in his mind he kept thinking - not important, not important, not important. He continued to Greenwich, that clock was almost at midnight now. There was a reported break in, a burglary and some cops in a fight with nazis. Not important, not important, not important. He kept on skipping the information. At St Paul's there was nothing suspicious and only a concert at midnight. Sherlock growled. He was frustrated and stressed. If he didn't solve this, what would happen to John? Who's taken him? A small voice in his head was telling him what he really didn't wanna hear. This looks like the work of Moriarty. But Moriarty is dead. Sherlock had seen him die. He shakes his head to get the thought out of his head. He must stay focused. What is he missing? What is wrong with this picture? He looked closely at the clocks again, which one is the right one. Suddenly he stopped. He looked more closely on the clock on st Paul's. It skipped 15 minutes at the time but it stopped and skipped back twice at 16.17. He had been so stressed that he didn't noticed it at first. It's brilliant, absolutely brilliant, and if Sherlock hadn't been so scared that something bad is gonna happen to John he would've been very impressed. 16.17 is the time he'd got the first text. This is the right one. He rushed up, grabbed his coat and ran out on Baker Street.

The cab had been driving so slow according to Sherlock. And when he arrived to St Paul's Cathedral the clock was almost half past six. He paid the cabbie and ran out. So now I'm here, Sherlock thought, but where can John be? He remembered the room where John had been tied up to the chair. The wooden stage. Lit up by candles. No windows. No door showing on the screen. He put his hands in front of his face. Where could that room be here? He was standing in front of the cathedral. Sherlock started to walk around the cathedral and searched for some place where John could be. And there wasn't much to go on.

\- I did what you wanted me to! Where is he? Where is John? Sherlock shouted angrily.

People who were walking on the streets looked over their shoulder as they past him, others changed their way just to avoid the weird shouting man. Sherlock stood absolutely still just waiting when his phone buzzed again.

18.47

"Haven't Holmes solved this yet? It's all staring him in the eye."

The screen changed just as it had done last time. And this time twenty pictures of Johns face stared at Sherlock. Sherlock waited for the phone to buzz again, but it stayed silent. Sherlock sat down on the stairs behind him. He pulled his coat closer around him and then he took a closer on the pictures. One of these pictures of John is the right one. But which one and where will it lead him. On 13 pictures John looked serious, on two he was frowning and on five he was smiling. All was portraits. He was dressed similar on every picture but two, where he didn't have his jacket on. Sherlock could see that 12 of the pictures was from before they were together as a couple and 8 was from after. Sherlock looked at the backgrounds of the pictures. 6 was taking inside the flat, 3 outside on Baker Street, 4 was taken on different restaurants and the rest was too blurry to see the background. Sherlock quickly searched the web on each and every restaurant. But nothing suspicious or interesting about them. Not important Sherlock, you need to focus, he told himself. Looking at pictures of John knowing that he was in danger made him feel small and lonely. He put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes and then drew them up in his hair. He looked at the pictures again. But there wasn't any of them that looked misplaced or wrong in any way. They're was all on John, his John. His mouth, his cheeks, his nose and his eyes... Sherlock stopped in his thought. Eyes? What had the text said? "It's all staring him in he eye". Him. Eye. Sherlock quickly zoomed in on the pictures looking closely on Johns eyes. He scrolled fast picture by picture and when he came to the one where John was smiling sitting in his chair on Baker Street he stopped again. There was something in Johns right eye. He tried to zoom even more but that only blurred the picture. He squeezed his eyes and focused. And that's when he recognized it, the London Eye in Johns eye. Brilliant, Sherlock thought, brilliant. And then he ran down the stairs to catch a cab.


	9. Chapter 9

When Sherlock arrived to London Eye the clock was almost nine. He forced himself through the crowed with people who was out to celebrate New Years. All these people, living their meaningless and ordinary lives. Sherlock couldn't hate them more than he did right now. They were clearly in his way and all the stuff they're doing is not as important as the thing he's doing. London eye was lit up in clear blue this evening and the trees in front of it was also shining in blue. It took Sherlock 13minutes to reach the gate to London Eye. A guard stood at the gate.

\- Are you Sherlock Holmes? The guard asked

\- Yes I am, Sherlock answered.

\- Then this is yours, the guard said and gave Sherlock a small note.

On the note small words was scribbled. Sherlock could see that the one who wrote it had been writing with his left hand, but was obviously right handed. The writer had used an ink pen with fine quality and the ink had been blurred in the rain earlier. The guard had been holding the note for quite a while and he had not been careful, cause the note was tattered. The paper was cheap and with not great quality. Sherlock read the few words written - "climb on board". Sherlock looked up from the note and met the guards eyes. The guard opened the gate and nodded to Sherlock. Sherlock walked slowly on board the carriage and sat down. He was alone inside. And then the wheel started to spin. Sherlock looked around in the carriage, and he noticed something under the seat in front of him. He reached down and grabbed something soft but scratchy. It was his hat. He hated this hat. Inside the hat there was another note, same handwriting, same pen, same paper. "Wear the hat, detective." Sherlock frowned not willing to wear the hat. Slowly he put the hat unwillingly on his head and at the same time the wheel was on its highest point. That's when the wheel stopped. Sherlock looked around as he waited for something to happen. Then he felt his phone buzzing.

21.24

"Holmes is stuck on his high horses. Watson is down on the ground. Will Holmes reach him? When the world is making this sound."

It's a countdown Sherlock thought. The world will make its sound at midnight, with all the fireworks. I must find John before midnight! He's on the ground, so definitely not here.

\- Come on! It's a countdown. You can do better, Sherlock growled.

And at the same time his phone buzzed again and a 360 picture of London appeared. It was the same view as Sherlock could see. As he turned the phone so did the picture. He could see all around him both on the picture and in the carriage. Something must be different between the pictures and Sherlock need to figure out what. Sherlock turned in the carriage and looked at the picture, it was the same. He zoomed, he turned around and he knew that the clock was ticking. Usually he worked best under pressure but not this time. How many hours have John been tied up to that chair now? It hurt him to think about John, alone and helpless. The more Sherlock stared at the picture the more convinced he was that a there was nothing wrong with it! Nothing wrong! This made Sherlock more furious. Why give him this useless clue at all? He pulled off his hat and slammed it on the floor growling.

\- Come on!

And as it had been a signal, his phone buzzed.

21.43

"Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair. Down we plunge to the prison of my mind. Down that path into darkness deep as hell!"

21.44

"Everyday I discover more and more beautiful things. It's enough to drive one mad. I have such a desire to do everything, my head is bursting with it."

21.45

"If love be blind, it best agrees with night"

21.46

"Let us not take ourselves too seriously. None of us have a monopoly of wisdom"

21.47

"Just keep it simple Holmes. Times is ticking. Tick-tock, tick-tock."

Finally, clues, more clues. Sherlock felt a small trace of satisfaction. At last now he has a chance to save John. So what does these words mean. It was obviously quotes, but from where and by whom? This is where John usually steps in and help him. If Sherlock had read these quotes before he definitely had erased them from his mind. They hadn't been important before but they are now. The frustration inside him grew!

\- Not such a show off now are we? Sherlock heard Johns voice in his head.

\- Stop it, I'm trying to save you for God's sake.

He was annoyed with John for mocking him now. He need to figure out the quotes. The last one made him a bit irritated - "none of us have the monopoly of wisdom", ah, rubbish! The other quotes didn't mean or say him anything. He felt himself getting more and more frustrated and wanted to slam the phone on the floor.

\- Stop it! shut up! I'm trying to think! Sherlock shouted even though there wasn't any noise in the carriage, no one there.

\- You need to get a grip little brother, Mycrofts voice echoed in his head.

\- Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

\- There's no one there brother dear.

\- I need to figure out these quotes!

\- I know that brother dear, and what do we do when we don't know?

\- Ask mommy?

\- See, mommy isn't here is she?

\- No, Sherlock said pouty, and she wouldn't have a clue.

\- Now don't be mean to mommy. Look around. What do you have in here?

Sherlock looked around and saw nothing more than an empty carriage and the view of London.

\- Nothing, it's nothing!

\- Look again bother.

And Sherlock looked down in his hand and saw the phone he was holding. For a second he was embarrassed but mostly stressed. Still standing he searched the web. And soon he had all the details of the quotes. The first was from Andrew Lloyd Webbers musical Phantom of the Opera, apparently in the scene where the phantom was furious with Christine for lying to him. The second quote was from Claude Monet, the impressionist painter. The third one was from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, a line that Juliet says in the play. And the last one was said by the queen of England, queen Elizabeth II. Now when he had figure this out. What has the quotes to to with finding John? He needs to find the place where John is held captured. The place? Oh yes. They're places, of course. Every quote is a place on the map. Phantom of the Opera is played on West End, obviously. Claude Monets paintings is hanging on the National Gallery on Trafalgar Square. Shakespeare Globe is near Bankside. And the queen is living in Buckingham Palace. Now I need to eliminate the three incorrect quotes and thereby the three incorrect places. He sat down on the floor. The wheel hadn't moved since it stopped when it was on the top. Sherlock believed that it wouldn't move until he solved this. The clock was almost a quarter past ten now. It's taking too long. What is wrong with him? It shouldn't be this hard would it?

\- Go back to the start Sherlock, maybe you missed something. Johns smooth voice echoed in his head.

Sherlock relaxed a bit when he heard it. John always knew when he needed to take a step back and look at what he's missing. So Sherlock took out his phone again and looked at the 360 picture. He decided to zoom in on West End, National Gallery, Shakespeare Globe and Buckingham palace. After just a few minutes Sherlock stopped.

\- Oh! Oh! I know! I got it, Sherlock said loudly, BLUE! It's blue.

Nothing happened.

\- Oh come on, do I have to explain everything?

Still nothing.

\- The only two things that are light up blue is here at London Eye and Shakespeare's Globe. That's it. That's where I'm going. That's where you're holding John captured.

And then, the wheel started spinning.

Sherlock ran up the few steps to Shakespeare's Globe, the clock was almost eleven thirty now. Just thirty minutes left for him to find and save John. The adrenaline was pumping in his veins. He ran to the doors and pulled it violently. It was locked. He pulled at all the doors but all were locked. Sherlock growled and stamped his feet, he didn't have time for this. He is at the right place, he needs to get in. He started to jog along the globe and found a hidden door just where the stage entry must be. It was open! Yes it was open. Sherlock hurried inside. He came up on the stage and looked around. The theatre was empty. And as there isn't any roof on the Globe he could see up to the sky above him. He saw two doors in front of him, one at his right and one at his left. The door on his left opened slowly. Sherlock took a deep breath. This was it, he was gonna meet the one that had kidnapped John. He was ready. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and when he opened them he saw...

\- Mycroft...! What the hell are you doing here?

\- Take it easy little brother, it has an explanation.

\- It better has brother, Sherlock twisted his head and put his hands into fists in his pockets.

Soon the other door opened and out came... John! Safe and sound and not tied up or anything. In his hand he held a leach and in the leach was a puppy. An Irish setter puppy. Sherlock couldn't twist his mind around this. He pulled his hair and spanned around trying to understand. What was this? Wasn't John in danger? What is Mycroft doing here? And what about that puppy? Then slowly Sherlock organized his rumbling thoughts and turned to Mycroft and jumped off the stage! He ran up to Mycroft and grabbed his jacket and smashed his forehead over Mycrofts nose. The nose started bleeding and Sherlock started to shake his brother.

\- YOU! He growled! You were up to all this! You snake! You filthy bastard! And you are the one that I should call my brother!

\- Sherlock stop! Stop it! John screamed and run up to him.

In the leach the puppy had its tale between its legs and was shaking. John put a hand on Sherlocks shoulder. Sherlock stopped shaking Mycroft and let go of him. He looked at John and actually calmed down.

\- It wasn't Mycroft Sherlock, John said, this was all my idea.

\- You? Sherlock said with a whisper shaking in his voice, but why John?

\- I wanted to surprise you. And how do you get Sherlock Holmes attention? With a case of course.

\- Surprise me?

\- Yes, you fool.

\- But why?

John smiled and took Sherlocks hand.

\- Happy birthday Sherlock.

\- But my birthday isn't until the sixth...

\- That's why it's a surprise.

And then John put the leach with the puppy in Sherlocks other hand. Sherlock looked at the puppy who wasn't shaking anymore, it actually waved it's tail.

\- I've bought you a new Redbeard Sherlock. For you and me.

\- A Redbeard...? For me?

He looked down at the puppy.

\- Yes. And I wanted to surprise you. And Mycroft helped.

They both looked over at Mycroft who was holding a handkerchief over his nose.

\- He helped me with the riddles, with the clues. He fixed this place for us Sherlock.

\- He... he helped you?

\- Yes. Now go and apologize to your brother.

Sherlock looked up at his brother but didn't let go of neither the puppy or Johns hand.

\- I'm... I'm sorry brother.

\- It's ok brother, I should've waited until John had talked.

\- Yeah, that would probably had been a good idea.

\- Yes.

\- All good?

\- All good, brother dear.

John smiled at them both. So alike but so different. At this time the clock turned midnight and fireworks started to fill the sky above them. John took at step closer and kissed Sherlock. Sherlock answered the kiss. Smiling the looked at each other.

\- Happy New Year Sherlock.

\- Happy New Year John.


End file.
